


Candy Apple Reprise

by MusingPenguin



Category: Hazbin Hotel (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Asexual Alastor (Hazbin Hotel), Demon!EveryoneElse, Demons are worth saving, Drama, Everyone deserves love and overall I want this story to be happy, Everyone loves Charlie (including me), F/M, Gen, Human!Charlie, Hurt/Comfort, Minor Violence, Multi, Musical References, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Romance, Self-indulgent fluff, Song Lyrics, lots of fluff, song titles, world-building
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-09
Updated: 2020-07-29
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:55:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,143
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23556418
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MusingPenguin/pseuds/MusingPenguin
Summary: “And those who were seen dancing were thought to be insane by those who could not hear the music.”A few centuries ago, a struggle for power arose between human and demonkind. Demons, the declared victors, now feast on the souls of humans, while survivors in hiding work to build a mysterious weapon underground. Determined to someday see peace, 25-year-old Charlie Magne sets off undercover to open a musical rehabilitation hotel at the center of Azaelheim, the demon capital.
Relationships: Alastor/Charlie Magne, Angel Dust/Husk (Hazbin Hotel), Charlie Magne & Vaggie
Comments: 2
Kudos: 48





	1. Seven

**Author's Note:**

> I've been working on this AU idea on and off for a little while. At first, I wanted to make it dark but...writing dark stuff makes me sad. So, fear not! This story will be soft and sweet. Anything to soothe our already coronavirus-stressed souls. Basically, everyone loves Charlie.

The sky was falling.

That’s what it looked like to her, at least. Childishly large eyes blinked up in wonder. She drank in the sight of those falling grey teardrops. She’d never been aboveground; her mother always told her how important it was to stay below. But she’d heard stories. How, before the demons were banished to Earth, the sky was a beautiful blue instead of a blood red. How, at night, you could sometimes see bright pinpricks of light called stars.

Now, she was up here, aboveground, looking at a stormy grey sky. She saw no stars. But there was so much light, so much more than the measly torches or bonfires that they used to sustain themselves down below. It was a brightness that made her head hurt. She was always told to remain quiet underground, to keep her laughter and singing to a minimum. But she could hear faraway laughter up here, dancing and free. Her heartbeat quickened. Those were demons, right? It was strange, hearing them laugh. There was something so human about the sound.

She knew the _stories_ about them, of course. She knew about their sin and their former humanity. They had committed acts that were beyond comprehension. They were violent. Her community had drilled it into her mind. She was human. They were demons. Such vastly different beings could never intermingle. With their monstrous power, the demons had wiped out nearly all of humankind. She and her underground community were the only ones left. All they could hope to do was survive.

A voice suddenly drew closer. Panicking, her chubby legs tripped over a pebble and crouched behind a rock that she prayed was large enough to conceal her. Shaking, she plopped onto the ground, squeezing her knees close to her chest, heart pounding. A wave of prickly cold fear washed over her.

“Yeah, well, fuck you too, you piece of shit! Cabrón...” The voice was feminine and clear. Her heartbeat rose to a crescendo in her ears, and she held her clammy hands up to her chest, terrified that the demon might hear. Among the rustling of leaves, the voice simply muttered to themself. The demon seemed preoccupied. Maybe now was her chance to escape. She forced herself to unfreeze her legs and slowly peered over the rock.

_**Please, picture me, in the trees** _

_**I hit my peak at seven** _

_**Feet in the swing over the creek** _

The demon in front of her looked nothing like Charlie had heard about. Her long white hair pleasantly complemented her dark grey skin, some of it framing half of her face. The rest fanned out behind her, tied with a big pink bow. She had a light yellow and pink eye and thick, feathery eyelashes. She was...cute! Charlie felt a blush rise to her cheeks.

_**I was too scared to jump in** _

As if she sensed her gaze, The Mysterious Pretty Demon Lady immediately flicked a glance in her direction, and she let out an audible gasp, ducking behind the rock a little too late.

“A human!?” the demon whispered, shocked.

_**But I, I was high in the sky** _

_**With Pennsylvania under me** _

Once more, cold waves of fear cascaded upon her, but this time, they were relentless. In a spur of panic, Charlie’s body shut down, freezing and locking her muscles in place. As the demon approached, she realized that she couldn’t even speak. The demon’s footsteps, too, hardly sounded like anything at all against the white hot ringing in her ears. How could this be happening? All her life, she’d just wanted to see what the aboveground was like. She didn’t want to die. It was going to hurt, wasn’t it? Harold had told her scary stories about demons who broke human children’s bones. And then they devoured your soul. Charlie’s shoulders shook as her breaths became staggered and weak.

“Hey…” The Mysterious Pretty Demon Lady walked slowly around the rock, keeping her distance. Charlie whimpered, retreating into the rock. She began to shake uncontrollably, tears falling in earnest. The Mysterious Pretty Demon Lady, however, made no move to touch her.

“You shouldn’t be here, okay? Go back. I’m sure your family is worried sick about you.” She looked picturesque against the falling grey sky, a gentle expression on her face. Charlie could only stare up at her in tears, uncomprehending.

More voices approached from the bushes. The Mysterious Pretty Demon Lady stiffened.

“No time! Go, go! Go somewhere safe!” She shooed Charlie along, and this time, the little human girl listened, running as fast as her little legs could carry her. She ran and ran and ran back towards the underground until her lungs were gasping for air, until the sounds of those voices had completely faded. It felt like ages until all she could see were the charred, rolling hills of the valley. Exhausted, she collapsed beside one of the tunnel entrances to the Underground, forcing her racing heart to slow. She burst into tears, taking comfort in that cathartic release. She was safe. She was okay. It was all going to be okay.

_**Are there still beautiful things?** _

After a pause, the entrance stone was rolled away by one of the guards, who gave her a coldly furious, stern glare.

“Your mother has been worried sick about you, Charlotte. I don’t even know how you escaped in the first place. You are NEVER to leave the tunnels, you understand? There are demons everywhere. If one of them had found you...god, with how monstrous they are, I don’t even want to think about what would have happened.”

_But not the Mysterious Pretty Demon Lady. Not her._

Quietly, she nodded, wiping at her tears. Taking notice of this, the guard softened his gaze, stepping aside to let her through. Before dipping back once more into that dimly lit darkness, safe, but hidden away from all of the unfamiliarity and the falling grey sky, she allowed herself one look back over her shoulder, far, far off into the distance. Nothing but rain. The Mysterious Pretty Demon Lady had disappeared.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As a musician myself, and knowing how much Charlie and Alastor love to sing and perform, there will be a lot of musical references in this story. ^ D ^


	2. Inside of Every Demon Is a Rainbow

What _was_ that smell? 

Though faint, it clung to his senses, cloying and pungent. He’d always had a more sensitive nose; he liked to think he got it from his mother and it contributed to his exceptional cooking abilities, especially when it came to making his mother’s world-famous jambalaya. But at times like these, he considered it to be a curse. The smell was _sweet_. So, so sweet. Like an apple coated in sugar candy. Disgusting.

Red eyes darted through the crowd. He noticed a few demons glance at him nervously, to which he flashed them a wide, yellow grin. No. It wasn’t from these low-level demons. The smell, hidden beneath the other mingling scents of demons, was coming from something, some _one_ different. He watched from a distance, his shadow twitching behind him. 

Soon, a young woman dressed in all black hurried past him. She brought the scent with her, and he, intrigued, strode behind her, humming. His radio static buzzed in tune with her footsteps. Such a sweet, fragile scent...who could this strange demon be? Like a predator stalking his prey, he cocked his head, listening in on her frantic heartbeat. After another step, the air around him fuzzed with interference, and then his radio audience burst into shocked laughter and applause. 

A _human?_ Here? Oh, this was going to be so much fun.

Though he could tell that she had done her best to cover up her scent, it was still clear to his trained nose. With a tap of his mic cane, he sent his shadow after her to warp and mask the scent. The belle was in quite a hurry, and he kept himself at a fair distance, humming all the while. Luckily for her, no demons in Azaelheim really gave a damn about anyone else. 

Before the war, Azaelheim, formerly known as “New York City,” was one of the largest human-based cities in the country. Once demons seized control of the city, it was established as the central demon capital and aptly renamed. Now, the buildings were darkened and burned, with neon lights decorating various businesses. The stench of demons was prominent, bringing with their auras a red smog that filtered the sky.

He followed her until they’d reached a rickety, worn-down apartment in the middle of an empty neighborhood. She fumbled for her keys. 

“ _Hello_ there, darli—” he began, placing a carefully folded claw over her small, rounded shoulder. She let out an earsplitting shriek, dropping her keys in the process. Looking down in mild amusement, he grinned as she turned to face him. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but it certainly wasn’t those large, pretty black eyes looking up at him. Pale and doe-eyed, with a button nose and lips painted in black, she was quite easy on the eyes. Her blonde curls were done up in a way that reminded him much of his peak years living in New Orleans—the classic flapper style, topped with an eye catching black cloche that he had failed to notice earlier. The sweet scent, however, clung to every fiber of her being. It _emanated_ off of her.

“My, what is a human doing in these parts? Like a lamb to the slaughter, as they say?” He gave a low chuckle of amusement, and his radio audience laughed with him. She eyed him warily, and then slowly, hands shaking, bent down to pick up her keys.

“What? I’m not...a human,” she began, her voice shaky.

“Oh please, dear! You can try and look the part, but your soul—it _smells._ ”

She stopped.

“What?”

“Your soul, sweetheart. Us upper-level demons can smell it. And yours, might I add, is _sickeningly_ sweet.” 

“Y-y-you can smell it? Did anyone else!?” she asked, panicked.

“No, dear. If any demon had, they would have gobbled your poor little soul up right away!” he commented with a laugh, and the young woman’s face, if it was even possible, whitened further.

“See, I was positively intrigued, to say the least, to see a human around these parts! After all, I am the Radio Demon, and I must say, I’m always excited to come across new happenings! But I knew the moment that any other demon found you or noticed your scent, you’d be gone. And I haven’t had real, fresh entertainment in decades! So I covered it up for you, not to worry.” The human anxiously gnawed at her lip.

“The name’s Alastor, sweetheart, and my, is it a pleasure to meet you! A human? _Here?_ Pray tell!” He leaned against his mic cane, his radio audience erupting in excitement. She wasn’t smiling, of course—merely shocked, eyes wide and afraid. He liked that look on her. But the fact that she was so quiet was putting an awful dampener on his fun! He would think a human who had the guts to enter Azaelheim would have more cut than that.

“I am to think that you have a reason for being here, right? Or did you just happen to stumble into the demon capital by accident?” He said this last part with a chuckle. His audience laughed right along with him.

“What do you want? Why are you doing this?” she asked, her voice quivering, but she held her ground. Now _that’s_ what he was talking about!

“Ha! Why does anyone do anything? Sheer, absolute boredom!” His voice buzzed with static, grin widening further. Her brows furrowed.

“Dear, if I had wanted to hurt you, I would have done so already.” And, before he allowed her the time to ruminate on his words, he whipped out a hand in greeting. “Now, to whom do I owe this pleasure, miss…?”

“Charlie,” she answered curtly. _Ah, Charlie._ A delectable name.

She fumbled with her keys once more, inserting them into the lock and pushing the door open. Alastor, without a moment's hesitation, hurried in before she could react.

Red eyes darted quickly along the dusty room. It was clearly in shambles, having been long abandoned. How had the little belle even gotten a hold of this place? Well, it probably had been sold off at a ridiculously low price, seeing how poorly kept it was. In the corner lay an old, beat-up piano, but he was sure it could still crank out a jazzy tune or two.

“What do you plan to do with this cesspool, sweetheart? It’s looking rather poorly, I’m afraid. You don’t plan to live here, do you? That just won’t do!” He said this with a twirl and a laugh, holding his mic up to his lips. She frowned in response, her cheeks flushing a bright, angry red.

“Yes, I do. And I’d rather you not insult the place,” she said evenly, attempting to maintain her dignity and composure. Further baring his teeth, he pointed his mic cane at her like an elongated finger, wagging disapprovingly.

“Oh, come now. Smile, my dear! You know you’re never fully dressed without one!” The last part was accompanied by a wink.

Her countenance visibly darkened further, though it seemed reminiscent to him of a little angry hamster. He was overcome by bubbling laughter and leaned in closer to pinch her cheeks, his grin so wide that it nearly split his face. When was the last time he’d been so intrigued by an individual like this?

“Um...more importantly, why are you inside my establishment?” she asked, clearly resisting the urge to pry his hands off of her.

“Ha! Establishment? Dear, where is this establishment of yours? I’d love to see!”

“Well, it’s going to be one! Eventually!” she huffed. 

He tilted his head at her, raising an eyebrow, though smiling nonetheless. 

\--

Charlie Magne was beyond disturbed by this eccentric personality in front of her, internally scolding herself for having been found out so easily. The other demons hadn’t noticed her, but the man in front of her didn’t seem to be just any normal demon. Was he one of the famed Overlords that Vaggie had warned her about? She narrowed her eyes at him. 

_Charlie, no matter what happens, do_ **_not_ ** _let your guard down. A demon may recognize that you’re a human, may even be nice to you. But never trust a demon. Not even me, you understand?_

Unlike Vaggie, he was the very picture of what she would expect a demon to look like—terrifying, powerful, and darkly charming. Old-fashioned in both mannerisms and speaking, he wore a crimson pinstripe suit and black bowtie that complemented his tan skin. And were those little _antlers_ alongside the tufts of hair on his head? What most drew her attention, however, was his voice. The demon in vermillion spoke as if he were the leading announcer of his very own show, filtered in a way that reminded her of something she’d hear on an old-timey radio. He was extremely tall, his face pointed and angular like the rest of his body. Blood-red eyes, scleras and all, made it hard for her to look away, and god, that eerie, unshakeable grin—but he was not unattractive by any means. _The hell?_ This last observation had her furrowing her brows in consternation, which he watched in obvious delight.

She huffed. Well, Alastor hadn’t killed her, so if she played her cards right, she might be able to get out of this mess alive. Much to her dismay, though, her pounding heart betrayed her. She knew he could see how much her hands shook as she took off her coat. The adrenaline of sneaking into Azaelheim alone had been enough, but she didn’t think that she would come face-to-face with a demon other than Vaggie so quickly!

“Remind me again why you haven’t killed me yet?” she asked, forcing her voice to steady. 

“My dear, haven’t we been over this already?” She could sense that he was walking towards her, and she spun to face him, gulping nervously at the way his sharp yellow teeth glinted in the light. _Oh god. Lord have mercy on me._

In a flash, he grabbed her hand and forcefully twirled her towards him. Flailing, she pulled at his suit lapels to steady herself, thrown off by the sudden force of his strength. His grin strained slightly as he gripped her chin with a clawed hand, forcing her to look up at him. A little squeak of surprise escaped her lips.

With his face merely inches away from hers, his crimson gaze looked over her appraisingly, drinking in her every feature. A cold prickliness washed over Charlie then, setting her heart ablaze. She was frozen, every muscle locked stiffly in place. Alastor merely smiled at this, brushing a stray lock of hair behind her ear. As he leaned in, his shadow loomed over her, and his grip on her tightened ever so slightly. Her gut clenched, sending a wave of butterflies to her stomach — _why was this strange demon making her feel this way!?_ —, and she screwed her eyes shut, bracing herself for pain.

Instead, though, she felt his lips graze the shell of her ear, the sudden touch electrifying, and she shivered.

“Besides, your soul smells so _sweet._ And I don’t have a taste for sweets, dear.” His voice was a silky murmur against her ear.

He leaned back, studying her parted lips and terrified gaze. An unreadable look came across his features then, but he simply chuckled, releasing her with another dizzying twirl.

“Oh,” was all she managed to release in a single breath, swallowing the lump that had formed in her throat. Her stomach was in such knots that she swore she was going to get stomach ulcers. Why did he insist on invading her personal space? Something about the way he looked at her reminded her of a game of cat and mouse. Charlie hated to admit it, but she knew that she was helpless to his whims; he could kill her with a snap of her fingers. She would have to play along.

“You wanted entertainment, you said?” Charlie asked, her voice small. His grin widened, unnervingly. It came to her attention that he had been smiling the entire time they’d talked. Did he ever stop?

“Why, of course! I’ve lacked inspiration for decades. There is only so much a demon can do, you see. Only so many beings I can kill before it becomes the same old pattern,” she winced at this, but he continued, “and even I, who thought that my thirst for blood was insatiable...have grown tired of this mere child’s play!” He watched her through half-lidded eyes, his smile still stuck on his face, unmoving, and her skin broke out into goosebumps under his stare.

She swallowed again, nodding. Maybe she could work with this. He seemed to be the type of demon who’d appreciate a good show. If she could give him one, maybe he’d let her be.

_Life isn’t a musical, hon._

_Well, maybe, maybe just this once, it could be._

“Well then!” she exhaled shakily, weakly clapping her hands.

“...Al,” an eyebrow raised at the moniker, but he made no further comment, “You see, this very apartment that you are standing in is set to become a musical establishment known as the Happy Hotel, right here at the heart of Azaelheim!” His eyebrows raised even higher, his smile widening to further expose his teeth, if such a thing was possible.

“A place where demons can come to be redeemed,” she continued with a flourish, “and where humans and demons can coexist peacefully aboveground, singing, dancing, and laughing together!”

The radio static around him fizzed, and then he and his radio were in an uproar. Charlie started at him, confused, as he laughed, _guffawed_ , at her words. His audience chortled alongside him like a cheesy sitcom laugh track.

“Oh sweetheart, that is the funniest thing I’ve heard in ages! My, I haven’t been this entertained since the stock market crash of 1929! Surely you must be joking?”

Clenching her fists, Charlie grit her teeth. First her mother and father, and now this Radio Demon was mocking her too? A flush of hot anger and indignation began to rise inside of her.

_Don’t take shit from other people, Charlie._

That was one good thing she’d learned from her father, at least.

“Listen here, ALASTOR.” He perked up at her tone, eyes narrowing in his smile.

“I didn’t come all this way just to get laughed at. Sure, maybe people won’t take it seriously at first, but I know there is good in Azaelheim and demonkind,” Charlie began, stubbornly crossing her arms. Vaggie was proof of that. 

“I believe that demons and humans can change for the better. And someday, with the help of music, maybe we can reconcile our differences and see peace.”

Silence. He continued to watch her with that infuriating grin still plastered on his face.

She sighed, nervously humming.

“It’s not getting through to you, huh? I know!” Charlie gasped, her black eyes lighting up like stars, unaware of how attentively Alastor was eyeing her now. 

Charlie cleared her throat, drifting over to the beat-up piano near the entrance. Experimentally, she pressed a few keys, satisfied to see that it was relatively in tune. At the play of the first chord, she began to sing.

**_I have a dream, I’m here to tell!_ **

**_About a wonderful, fantastic new hotel_ **

**_Yes it’s one of a kind! Right here in ‘Zael_ **

**_Catering to a specific clientele!_ **

**_Ooooo_ **

Now was the fun part! She blasted the next few couple of notes and chords, beaming all the while.

**_Inside of every demon is a rainbow!_ **

**_Inside of every sinner is a shiny smile!_ **

**_Inside of every creepy hatchet wielding maniac_ **

**_Is a jolly happy cupcake loving child!_ **

**_We can turn them ‘round!_ **

**_They’ll be Heaven bound!_ **

**_With just a little time down_ **

**_At the Happy Hotel!_ **

**_So all of you junkies, freaks, and weirdos,_ **

**_creepers, fuck-ups, crooks, and zeros_ **

**_And downfallen superheroes,_ **

**_hope is here!_ **

**_All of you cretins, slobs, and losers_ **

**_sexual deviants and boozers_ **

**_and prescription drug abusers_ **

**_Need not fear…_ **

**_(For)ever again_ **

**_We’ll cure your sin_ **

**_We’ll make you well_ **

**_You’ll feel so swell_ **

**_Right here in ‘Zael_ **

**_At the Happy Hotel!_ **

**_There’ll be no more fire and screams_ **

**_Just puppy dog kisses and cotton candy dreams,_ **

**_And puffy-wuffy clouds_ **

**_You’re gonna be like “WOW!”_ **

**_Once you check in with me!_ **

She sang the last note of the bridge with bravo and gusto, and, out of the corner of her eye, she could see Alastor perpetually smiling.

**_So all your cartoon porn addictions,_ **

**_Vegan rants, psychic predictions_ **

**_Ancient Roman crucifixions_ **

**_End right here!_ **

**_All you monsters, thieves and crazies_ **

**_cannibals and crying babies_ **

**_Frothing mouthers - full of rabies_ **

**_Fill with cheer!_ **

**_You’ll be complete_ **

**_It’ll be so neat_ **

**_Our service can’t be beat_ **

**_You’ll be on easy street_ **

**_Yes! Life will be sweet!_ **

**_At the Happy Hotel!_ **

**_YEAH!_ **

  
Her final note rang through the air like a sweet promise, loud and clear. Her arms had been thrown ceremoniously up into the air, lungs heaving, her heart bursting from the euphoria of singing. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d had this much fun! Oh, she couldn’t wait to tell Vaggie about this! Charlie’s happy thoughts were interrupted, however, by the slow, deliberate clapping of Alastor himself. She brightened up at this, even though his emotions were unreadable behind that never-ending smile.

“So, what do you think?” she asked breathlessly.

“What a performance!” he exclaimed, laughing, his radio audience erupting into cheers and applause, and her cheeks hurt from smiling. “To think that you would risk your life to save such loathsome sinners! Truly, Miss Charlie, you are one of a kind.” Once more, he moved uncomfortably close, wrapping his arm around her shoulders. She grimaced nervously, uncomprehending, cheeks still flushed.

“But, you see, there is no undoing what has been done. Hahaha, that is a load of gobbledygook! It is impossible, dear. We are demons. You, a mere _human,_ cannot save demons or bring anyone ‘peace.’” He chuckled loudly to himself once more, grandly waving his mic cane in the air. She did her best to hide her crestfallen expression, not wanting to give him that satisfaction.

“Your little project is doomed to fail. Whether you get found out and your soul gets eaten up right away, or demons and humans alike come and see how much of a lost cause this is... _ha_!” She bit her lip, an angry fog forming in her eyes, and she made to move away from him. His monocled eye, however, glinted mischievously, and he stooped down until his nose was touching hers.

“But, my dear, I have a proposition for you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have hopped back into shipping hell. Sorry it's been a while! I'm hoping to update this fic more frequently, but I'm unfortunately not good at maintaining schedules. However, I do hope to build upon this world in the coming chapters and become more invested in it!
> 
> Thanks for reading, and stay tuned!


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